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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629760">Harmony</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats'>strawberriesandtophats</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Musketeers (2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Music</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:34:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22629760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been the sort of night where you never wanted the music to end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Louis XIII de France/Armand Jean du Plessis de Richelieu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Harmony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Rimbaud.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been the sort of night where you never wanted the music to end. The smoothness of it lodging itself in your bones, the melody calming the mind so that it was no longer a swirling mind of worries and spiraling thoughts.</p><p>It had an interesting effect on the king’s mood. There was no lingering annoyances or spiking delight occupying his mind, just a seemingly bottomless calm. His movements weren’t sharp, his boots not thundering on the stone floors.</p><p>Tomorrow, no doubt, he’d return to being his usual passionate self.</p><p>But for tonight, Richelieu was enjoying the feeling of Louis’ warm hand on his back, fingers brushing his shoulder blades and tracing his spine. They barely had any time or often patience for such gestures, time always slipping through their fingers as they raced to get as much quality time together before the sun rose once again.</p><p>Richelieu kept his eyes closed, his head resting on one of the pillows as Louis kept stroking his back, humming bits and pieces of songs they’d listened to earlier in the evening. His hands did not roam to more sensitive places, often just resting on Richelieu’s lower back or shoulder.</p><p>Eventually, Richelieu’s breathing became more regular, deeper as he sank deeper into that place between waking and sleep, where there were no nightmares ready to tackle him to the ground. Instead he just felt the warmth of Louis’ hand on his back in addition to the welcoming coldness of the sheets underneath his feet and the knowledge that at this moment, the king was as happy as he could get.</p><p>Tomorrow, perhaps, there would be scandals and assassins and screaming Musketeer captains to deal with.</p><p>But not tonight.</p><p> </p>
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